


desire

by txmaki



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Anger, Dom Lucio, Eventual Smut, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Love/Hate, Making Out, Needy Lucio, Reader has Big Dick Energy, Teasing, and best friend by rex orange county, at the end at least, i have a soft spot for the goatman. thats it, in a library, ish? kinda? idk, kinda cute, lucio fuckin sucks with names, that's the inspiration behind this, ur hot and lucio's needy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-05-28 07:42:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19389595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/txmaki/pseuds/txmaki
Summary: All Lucio wanted to do was get lost in his own party. Distract himself for a moment, if that, dance into the lights and sounds and foods. But you were here - laughing and talking to Jules and Asra, looking so damn good and it was infuriating. Anger burned in his chest every second he looked at you, filling up his lungs like smoke, and yet…...he found you quite alluring.Mixed in with the anger, swirling in his chest, was… perhaps… a hint of arousal. Maybe. Only a little.





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> so this has the potential to have a second part (or maybe more.....,) so let me know if yall want that? ever since the first chapter of lucio's route came out i've been DYING to write something for him so here it is lol

Lucio would be lying if he said that he wasn’t angry right now.

Another year, another masquerade. It was something he always looked forward to - always. Extravagant decorations, pounding music, beautiful strangers hidden all around him. No matter what, on the nights of the Masquerade, the world was his oyster and he could do whatever he pleased (he could do so anyways, because he’s the count, but this time around no one berated him for it - not even Nadia). 

And, well, even if people found him insufferable and horrific regularly, for a short amount of time, they loved him. 

But now, this year, oh, he couldn’t even focus on the extravagant decorations or pounding music or beautiful strangers hidden behind masks, all he could focus on was _you_. And Lord, it was a fucking _tragedy_. All Lucio wanted to do was get lost in his own party. Distract himself for a moment, if that, dance into the lights and sounds and foods. But you were here - laughing and talking to Jules and Asra, looking _so damn good_ and it was _infuriating._ Anger burned in his chest every second he looked at you, filling up his lungs like smoke, and yet…

...he found you quite alluring.

Mixed in with the anger, swirling in his chest, was… _perhaps_ … a hint of arousal. Maybe. Only a little.

Who could blame him - really? Half the partygoers were looking at you, dazzled and enchanted by your costume and, well, you. You’re magnetic, laugh traveling through the ballroom like a melody not even the band playing in the corner could replicate - and Lucio hired the best musicians around.

You meet his eyes, suddenly, and Lucio can’t help the flush that creeps up his neck, embarrassed that he’s been caught. You only roll your eyes behind your mask, offering a teasing smirk, and Lucio is drowning.

He sneers at you, acting like he doesn’t care, and turns with a dramatic fling of his cape. It’s not until he’s out in the palace gardens that he allows himself to cool down a bit, sitting on a bench behind a hedge, away from the crowd of people.

He wasn’t even around people. God, because of _you,_ he couldn’t even want to be around people. The _audacity._

If he could find a way to approach you, to get close to you without you glaring at him, then everything would be fine. Since he’s so wonderful - the best - it wouldn’t be hard to get you to trust him a bit more. Maybe a few drinks, playful flirting - _mutual_ flirting. He’d slyly suggest going somewhere more private, perhaps to his wing? You would agree, after faint thought, and follow him through the palace. He’d take you to his room, lay you down on the crimson silk sheets, smooth as blood, and find a much better use for your lips than to smirk at him. He just needed to get it out of his system.

“Is our dear Count Lucio not enjoying his own party?”

He knew that voice.

Lucio looks to his left to find none other than you - gorgeous as you’re engulfed in blue and purple light from a gazebo nearby. He swallows, then puts on his best grin.

“Relax, sunshine,” he starts, and swears he sees your eyes flare behind your mask. “Just needed to take a breather from partying too hard.”

You scoff, but it’s not rude. Playful, maybe. Lucio doesn’t know. He can’t focus. All he sees is how nicely your body fits in your costume, the lights from the gazebo only adding an ethereal effect to you. You move to sit down next to him, and he shifts farther to one side of the bench. 

“So the count is lonely, hmm?” You ask, and when Lucio looks over at you, you’re looking off in the distance, paying attention to a display. A breeze comes by and then he can smell your perfume and oh, _God,_ this is torture. He’s quiet - honestly, he forgets to respond - and when your eyes flicker to his in a way-too-hot side glance, he sputters. He stands from the bench, stepping a foot or two away from you. Any closer and he would have forgotten how to be fucking _human._

“Of course not!”

“Then may I ask why you’ve been eyeing me all night?”

Oh, shit. Of course you brought it up. You couldn’t just let it be, let it go forgotten and unsaid -

“You, uh…” Lucio stammers, and his face feels like it’s on fire. Jesus. “You noticed that, did you?” His voice is quiet, lost all its usual buoyancy.

“You’re not very subtle, Lucio,” you say, and your smile sounds in your voice. He can’t get over how good his name sounds coming from your mouth - it leaves him wondering how it would sound if you were screaming it, instead, bouncing off the walls of his quarters -

Lucio shoos the thought away. If he thinks about it too much, he’ll never get over it until he hears it for real. Composure regained, he sends you a savage grin.

“Never been one for subtlety, babe,” he responds, and you shake your head at him. You look up at him from your place on the bench, crossing your legs.

“I suppose not,” you say, but your voice is quiet, observant. When you gaze at him it feels like you’re seeing through his every ploy, every layer that makes him Lucio.

He decides to take a shot.

“Well, now that you’ve pointed it out, would you -”

“No.”

_What?_

“What do you mean?” You ask, eyebrow arched at him as you stand. Lucio realizes he voiced his shock out loud, but can’t seem to pick his jaw up off the ground. You smooth out your costume. “You’re going to have to try harder than staring at me from across the room.”

“But - I -” he starts, and the anger is back in his chest, completely overlapping whatever… _feelings_ he had for you. “I’m the _Count!”_

You’ve turned away from him, now, beginning to walk away. Lucio tries not to let his eyes drift to your hips, how they move deliciously as you walk. “And the _Count_ will have to act like every other person,” you say, then stop and turn around to face him again.

“Get to know me a little more and maybe I won’t say no to a date.”

And then you’re gone.

A date. A _date?_ He’s… he’s the _Count of Vesuvia._ Lucio could have anybody he wanted in a second, everybody wanted to be with him, he…

He wanted _you._

Oh, he’ll show you. Soon he’ll be all you can think about, all you want. Just like he wants you.


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so what if lucio was attracted to you? you were obviously attracted to him, too… right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was originally going to be 2 parts but then.... i realized that this shit's gonna be long. hope yall are ready for a fuckin ride lol

It’s the second night of the Masquerade, and Lucio isn’t sure how much his self control can handle.

He’s staring at you. Again. He knows he shouldn’t (although anyone would be flattered that he even glance in their direction) but was he really to blame here? You dressed so amazingly, again - Christ, he’s getting way too carried away. You’re standing by a table dressed in the most delectable foods, your eyes glinting behind your mask.

Usually it wouldn’t be like this. _Usually,_ the person who caught his attention would most definitely already be in his bed, curling around smooth sheets as he watches them unravel with every move he makes. Usually all his pent up emotions would have been long gone - away in the breeze, not to be seen until the next time he gets horrifically needy. But you weren’t like usual - _oh,_ not at all. You were playing hard to get; teasing Lucio and loving every damn second of it.

And, while Lucio absolutely despised it… he kind of liked it.

He’d never admit it; not to anyone, ever. Not in a life or death situation, not even to save his own ass. But oh, he admired the chase. Appreciated it, even - like how you appreciate the age of a fine wine. It was boring, although flattering, when others simply threw themselves in his direction - it made him feel powerful, sure, but imagine how powerful he’d feel if - _when_ \- he finally had you. Ah, the satisfaction.

Before you catch him staring again, he’s on his way towards you.

“Y/N, looking as vibrant as ever,” Lucio says when he reaches you, and an immediate smirk comes to play at your lips. 

“Vibrant, hm?” You respond, popping a grape into your mouth. “Thank you, Lucio.”

He’s expecting a compliment in return (“But not nearly as much as you!”) but when you simply turn back to the table of food, Lucio grumbles under his breath, peeved. Wasn’t it just the nice thing to do? Pay someone a compliment in return? Jesus.

“I, um,” he stammers, and you raise a brow at him. God, he probably looked like a loser. “I was wondering if you would like to take a walk with me. In the palace gardens.”

You tilt your head, taking a glance at Lucio. You seem to be pondering, but then your answer comes quick as you take another grape from the vine on the table.

“Sure.”

Lucio tries to hide his surprise (which he’s totally not - surprised, that is, because of course you’d say yes to a late-night stroll with _him,_ Count Lucio) and smiles, offering his arm to you. You make it obvious that you notice, but walk past him without a word.

The night air is warm when you and Lucio step outside, descending the stairs to the gardens. There are people littered among the yard, talking amongst themselves as they enjoy the party. Lucio prides himself on another successful Masquerade. As you and him walk farther along the path in the gardens, the music grows quieter, the only sound filling the air being the distant chatter of people and those oh-so annoying bugs that come out at night.

It’s quiet, and when Lucio turns to look at you, you seem content. The idea that you can welcome silence confuses him, but before he can say anything you speak instead.

“It’s a beautiful night,” you say.

Lucio nods, looking up at the sky for a moment. “Sure,” he says. “Not quite as beautiful as me, though, right?”

He’s not even trying to make you laugh. He was just speaking his mind - even if it is a beautiful night, he’s way better than a few stars. You laugh regardless, a simple chuckle in the quiet. 

“Hey! What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing,” you say, shaking your head. “You’re just… well, no disrespect, Count Lucio, but you’re very self-absorbed.”

Lucio gapes at you. “You… you can’t say that to me! I’m the Count! That’s…”

Before he can finish his sentence, he sees something. Or, rather, someone, and that someone would not be very happy to see him, given that Lucio banished their entire family from Vesuvia. 

“That’s… what? Cat got your tongue, Lucio?”

“Shit.”

Lucio looks around desperately, searching for somewhere to hide - or run, honestly, anything to avoid the confrontation that’s so painfully inevitable. He hears your voice, distantly, but can’t focus, looking for something, _anything_ -

_There._ A shed.

He grabs your wrist, dragging you along with him as he sprints to the shed. By the time he’s opened the door and shoved you, then himself inside, he’s barely realized that oh, he probably didn’t have to take you with him.

And, based on your close proximity, he probably shouldn’t have.

It’s not like you’re that close to him - not even chest to chest. But you’re close enough that he can smell your perfume again, light and warm. You’re glaring up at him, either way, and he swallows.

“What the _hell_ was that about?” You hiss, and he smiles, not wanting to meet your eyes,

“Well, uh, you see…” he starts, looking through the crack in the shed door. “A few years back I banished this person’s family from Vesuvia and -”

_“Oh my God.”_

“Yeah…”

“What did you banish them for? What could possibly be worth _banishing_ someone’s entire family?” Your voice is getting louder, and Lucio shushes you.

“They were loitering outside the palace gates.”

“So you _banished them from the fucking country?”_

Lucio looks down at you, offering a hopefully-confident looking smirk as he pushes your chin up with his finger. “You know, you’re hot when you’re angry.”

You look like you’re about to retaliate when Lucio hears footsteps outside of the shed, and by the look on your face you hear them too. A breeze rushes by, ventilating the hot air in the shed, and Lucio lets out a shaky sigh at the smell of you. God, he hopes his heartbeat isn’t loud enough for you to notice.

For whatever reason, somehow, you end up tripping. You fall forward into Lucio with a muffled yelp and on instinct he holds you to him, and when half a second goes by he realizes that he definitely shouldn’t have because there’s no way he’s going to be a decent fucking person much longer, _oh God._

Your hands are on his waist and neither of you are moving, barely even breathing, listening for the footsteps to pass. They stop, and when Lucio looks through the crack in the door he sees a figure. He’s not even worried about someone being angry with him anymore, he just can’t be this close to you because your chest is pressed against his and you’re breathing into his neck and your hand is moving _why is it moving_ -

Lucio feels your fingers over his heart and can practically hear your lips stretch into a grin as you register his pounding heartbeat, leaning back just enough to look him in the eye. He grimaces at you, but he knows that you know. But then your hand is moving again, and the other one is, too, and you’re practically feeling him up in a fucking _shed_ outside.

Your breath is hot in his ear and he can’t even do anything about it - if he pushes you away, it’ll surely cause a ruckus and he’s not really up for being antagonized tonight. You’re not necessarily feeling him in a sexual way, only moving your hands along his body - hell, you’re not even kissing him - but (as much as he hates to admit it) he’s desperate enough that every feather-light touch is like a match to his skin. 

The footsteps start again, passing by and slowly getting quieter and more distant. When they fade from his hearing altogether, so do your hands, and then you’re opening the door and walking out of the shed and what the hell just happened?

You’re outside the shed, stretching your arms in the moonlight. Lucio takes a peek to make sure the figure is gone, then steps out of the shed, slamming the door behind him. You jump, slightly, then turn around with a confused look in your eyes, as if you hadn’t just done… _that._

“What was that?” Lucio seethes, and you don’t even bother hiding your grin. You shrug.

“Payback, I guess. For banishing that family for absolutely nothing.”

He sputters, trying to force his frustration into words. Your smile grows wider the more he struggles and _dammit,_ he’s getting tired of how hot you are all the time. Anger burns in his lungs.

“I’d love to watch you stutter, dear,” you say, adjusting your mask on your face. “But I should probably get back to the party. _Your_ party, I might add.”

Oh, right. The Masquerade.

Before Lucio can say anything, you’re turning and walking away with a wink, and he can’t get the memory of your hands on him out of his mind.


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a kiss or two between the books couldn't hurt, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so!! i've decided i can finish this lil mini-series up in one more part, which will be out pretty soon. this last part will most likely include smut, at least to a certain extent if that makes sense?? so watch for that lol. hope u enjoy this chapter!!

It’s been a rough few days.

The clean-up after the Masquerade was always stressful (especially for Lucio; having to order all those servants around? _Ugh,_ it’s exhausting), but not only was Lucio thinking about what to do with all the extra food or what he would do for next year’s Masquerade… he was thinking about you.

And God, it’s fucking horrible. He can’t keep his mind away from how your hands felt on him, the way your eyes gleamed in the moonlight through the shed window. Wandering the halls of the palace, all he can think about is you. Are you really that hot, or is he just that needy? It has to be the latter, right? There’s no way someone could…

“Portia, will you show Y/N to the library?”

Wait, what?

“Sure thing, milady.”

Before Lucio turns the corner, he peeks his head around. There - you, next to Noddy and… who was that again? Nadia’s personal servant; what did she say? Potion? Whatever. But you, nonetheless, satchel on your waist and gentle smile on your lips. Christ, you’re not even wearing anything as magnificent as your masquerade costume and Lucio’s only thinking about how good you look, even just standing there -

“Thanks, Nadia,” you’re speaking, and it pulls Lucio out of his thoughts. You and the servant start walking away from him - the library, was it? Maybe he’ll pay you a little visit. Give you a taste of your own medicine.

By the time Lucio’s at the library, you’re by yourself, turning a corner to look at more bookshelves. He saunters in, right hand trailing fingers over book spines as he goes. Close to you, enough that you can see him, but not enough to make you think he followed you here (because he totally didn’t - he just happened to be close by). He’s watching your every movement, your eyes tracing over titles, and then - _oh, shit_ \- you see him.

Lucio fumbles, taking a book from the nearest shelf and turning to a random page, not even bothering to read what’s actually on it. Footsteps grow closer and then you’re near him, a few feet away, and when you speak Lucio jumps, just a bit.

“What are you doing here, Count Lucio?” You ask, and that goddamn _smirk_ -

He laughs, boisterous and flashy, closing the book in his palm. “Oh, you know, just studying about…” he pauses, looks at the title on the cover of the book, and then, softer, “pastries.”

Even though Lucio and you know that he’s definitely lying, you don’t say anything, only raising an eyebrow as your gaze returns to the shelf next to you. You move closer to him as your eyes scan the books. “So you bake, hmm?”

“Uh.. sure. Yes.”

“Really? No servants to do it for you?”

Lucio’s smile is cocky as he looks at you, placing the book in his hand back on the shelf, not caring if it belongs or not. His heart is racing. God, he hopes you’re not using your magic powers to listen to his thoughts or something. “No, it’s a hobby of mine. I have many - you know, because I’m so talented.”

You hum, looking back to Lucio, and your tongue glides over your lips.

_Fuck._

“I’ll have to try something of yours sometime, then,” you say, and you’re so much closer than before. Lucio feels hot. He swallows, taking in a deep breath. All you’re doing is staring at him, and you _know_ what you’re doing, oh -

“Yeah,” is all Lucio can manage to say, his voice - normally so loud and attention-grabbing - soft. He thinks maybe you’ll do something (he won’t admit it, but he’s _hoping_ you’ll do something), touch him again or maybe even…

You move away from Lucio, going to the opposite side of the wide room, crossing the fireplace and looking for whatever it is you came for. He’s stunned for a moment and then he is seething, eyebrows knitting together and lips forming an unforgiving scowl.

“Oh my God,” he mumbles, and before he can stop himself he’s ranting, eyes glowing with frustration. “How long are you gonna keep me on a leash, huh?”

You look surprised when he meets your eyes, and Lucio’s relishing in the tiny bit of fear that shows through your face. “I’m the Count, you have to do what I say!”

The surprise is gone in an instant - not to the normal, teasing grin he’s used to, something more obedient. Submissive. You move closer to him but stop a yard away, mouth opening before you speak.

“Then tell me what to do.”

One thought races through Lucio’s mind (“Oh, fuck, what?”) but he wastes no time in getting to you, clawed hand curving around you and then he’s finally kissing you - _finally_ \- and your lips are fire against his, a volcano on the verge finally erupting. He doesn’t miss the gentle moan you let out, smiling greedily against your mouth.

He pushes you backwards roughly, only stopping when your back meets a bookshelf. It rattles with the sudden pressure but nothing falls or breaks - wouldn’t matter, either way. Lucio can pay for it. You kiss him back with fervor, and he gladly accepts. God, how long he’s waited for this, waited to feel your lips, the gentle pressure of your teeth. He slips his tongue in the mix, feeling your mouth part eagerly for him.

Your hands are trailing over his arms, up his shoulders and around his neck. Wherever they go ignites a fire, searing against his skin through his clothes and he groans onto your lips. The realization that the both of you are out in the middle of the library - with the doors open, no less - sneaks between his other thoughts (which, _coincidentally,_ all happen to be about you) and he starts moving farther between the shelves, pulling you with him. As much as he’d like to have anybody just walk by and see the way you melted in his palm, it’s a little indecent, and he does have a reputation.

Lucio hasn’t been in the library much, but he still remembers where Julian’s old desk is - back in the corner, right under a too-big window. He’s pulling you to it, lips leaving yours only to gauge his surroundings. When he finally finds the desk he’s swiping everything off of it and then backing you into it, kissing your neck as you sit yourself on the edge.

You’re breathing heavy into Lucio’s ear and _God, _it’s getting harder and harder to restrain himself. He licks up a lewd stripe up from the base of your neck to your ear, relishing in the whimper of his name that leaves your lips and grinning against your skin. His flesh hand is slipping under your shirt, going _up, up, up_ -__

__“Y/N? Are you still in here?”_ _

__Lucio stills, freezing against your neck, and he hears your breathing falter for a moment._ _

__“Portia,” you whisper, pushing Lucio off of you and standing. You quickly adjust your clothes, offering a rushed “just a sec!” to Portia ( _not Potion,_ Lucio thinks). You’re walking away, about to leave, but then walk back to Lucio and place one last languid kiss against his lips, fingers feather-light on his neck._ _

__You wink at him before you go, leaving him in the library hot and bothered. He hears your voice fade as you and Portia walk further from the library._ _

__Lucio groans softly, anger blooming in his chest again, because of _course_ someone had to interrupt - Jesus, he should fire her. That wasn’t extreme, was it?_ _

__All he can think about is how close he is to having you._ _


	4. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there's no doubt that you want him like he wants you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi so!! it's not like... Full Smut but it definitely gets a lil steamy lol. i felt like if i continued with an actual sex scene it wouldn't be a really good chapter so i just left off where it felt right. nevertheless, here's part 4!!

So you felt the same.

Well, _obviously._ Lucio was too good to resist - beautiful, rich, powerful… it was only a matter of time before you had given in to his charms. And now that you had finally admitted to wanting him like he wanted you, he had no doubt in his mind that eventually you would find your way to his bedroom; writhing in sheets, voice echoing off the walls…

The only catch was that Lucio wasn’t quite sure how to execute his fantasies.

Sure, he could just ask, but that wasn’t very interesting (nor was it very seductive). Extra precautions would have to be taken because he is not having another library incident - and, God forbid it happen again, he’s not stopping. He’s been waiting too long (or rather, he’s getting desperate).

Lucio decided dinner was a good place to start.

It was a bit… strange, asking you. You _did_ ask for a date before, and Lucio supposed this could count as one (although the two of you were far past dates, now). After Nadia’s servant (Potion?) had taken you away for whatever it was, Lucio had gone out to the gardens, both to recuperate and pout. When you found him again you were back to your teasing, definitely-still-too-fuckin’-hot self, so it can be inferred that it took Lucio a while to get the stupid words out of his mouth. You had nodded, sly smile on your face, and before things could go any further you were off.

The balcony already looks wonderful, decorated with bright whites and reds (courtesy of Lucio, of course). A moderately-sized table rests by the railing, arranged in the same colors. The finest wines - all red - were being prepared, as well as a feast meant for kings. If you didn’t already want to sleep with him, by _God_ Lucio was going to make sure you did by the end of the night. 

By the time dinner rolls around, the sun is setting behind the palace. Lucio’s already seated at the table, waiting for your arrival (he’d considered that maybe he would appear eager, but at the thought of how you practically _threw_ yourself at him at the library, decides he doesn’t really care). The sky mixes hues of orange and pink and purple, and when you finally walk through the doors, it only looks brighter.

Porsche ( _Christ,_ what the hell was her name?) is talking to you, then motions towards the table with a smile. You return the gesture and then make your way over to the table, and Lucio smirks at you - which, hopefully, catches your attention.

“Good evening, doll,” he speaks as you sit down ( _Right next to me!_ He thinks, even though that’s the only other seat at the table) and you nod, offering a playful gaze to him.

“It is,” is all you say, adjusting yourself in your seat.

A servant comes in with a bottle of red wine, filling both your glass and Lucio’s before scampering away. Casual conversation flows between the two of you - it’s strange, considering the circumstances that you and him had spoken before - as an appetizer is delivered, then a main course. 

Everything is perfect.

_Too_ perfect.

Something has to go wrong, right? A servant has to mess something up, or… or the weather will suddenly turn sour, or… something. Nothing between Lucio and you had been this planned, this simple. First it was your teasing, then being interrupted, so something has to -

Oh, _shit,_ that’s your hand.

Your hand on Lucio’s leg. You’re still talking, not even bothered, taking a sip of wine. For a moment he thinks it’s purely innocent, but then he meets your eyes, and they’re filled with mischief as you look at him over the rim of your cup. The sky is almost completely dark, now, and your eyes gleam with the light of the candles placed around. Jesus Christ.

Your touch is still like fire to him, hot on his thigh over his pants. Lucio takes a deep breath, trying not to show you that you get to him so easily, instead choosing to focus on his own glass of wine. It’s hot, suddenly, even with the cooling summer air. He thinks that that’s all there is - a hand on his thigh; teasing, but not anything more, until your hand moves up.

Oh, _fuck._

Christ, if you’re gonna go this far, he might as well just take you up to his room without a second thought. Nadia’s servant comes back, another bottle of wine in her palms. You greet her with a kind smile as she pours more of the drink into both your and Lucio’s glasses but he can barely focus on what she’s saying because your hand is on his fucking _dick._

“Ilya’s doing alright, drama queen as usual. What about Asra, is he -”

“Hey, uh,” Lucio interrupts, beginning to feel your hand palm against him. His face is hot. “Potion?”

The servant looks at him, deadpan. “It’s Portia, milord.”

“Right, whatever. Will you go check on dessert?”

As Portia leaves to return to the kitchen, you turn your head to Lucio. You don’t move your hand - in fact, you press yourself closer to him as you speak. “That was a little rude, don’t you think?”

“What in the _hell_ are you doing?” Lucio hisses, and that oh-so-teasing smirk plays at your lips. He swallows - he wants to be mad, he wants to be so _pissed…_

“I just thought I’d have a little fun,” you say innocently with a gentle shrug of your shoulders. You lean up to Lucio’s ear, and when you whisper he feels your lips against it. “Nothing wrong with that, right?”

Oh, that’s it.

“Fun, huh?” Lucio scoffs, standing up from his chair. The table clatters with the sudden movement and he grabs your wrist, not concerned about anything else but getting you to his bed. How long he’s waited for this - pulling you up to his quarters and showing you how truly great he really is.

You go along with him willingly, no resistance as he drags you after him. His pace is fast, though every time he looks over his shoulder to make sure you’re still keeping up, you meet his eyes with a gentle fire. It doesn’t take long to get to his room.

When he opens the door, you walk in first, taking a look around. You look like you’re about to say something, but before any words leave your mouth Lucio spins you around and pushes you against the door and God, even just the feel of you is like a drug. The gasp that leaves your lips as Lucio immediately plants his lips on your neck is nothing short of euphoric to him, leaving him grinning against your skin.

His lips trail up until they meet yours, and he tastes the wine from before on your tongue. Your hands are moving everywhere on his body - his neck, his chest, his arms. They leave a fire on the forest of his skin and Lucio lets out a harsh groan onto your mouth when one palms over his cock again. His fingers find the hem of your top and he tugs, gently, _take it off._ You seem to get his message and pull your shirt over your head, leaving you in a camisole and your bottoms. Lucio makes quick work of those, too, throwing them somewhere in the room. It doesn’t matter.

He picks you up, hands gripping your thighs to keep you steadied as he makes his way over to the bed. When he pushes you down on it, hair fanned around your head, the red silk of the sheets only add to the desire in your eyes. 

“You want fun?” Lucio asks, unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it with the other clothes. His fingers ghost over your now-bare legs, goosebumps arising in his wake. He makes sure to keep his touch feather-light, even as he brushes over your clit. You whimper, hips bucking softly into his hand. He grins, wildly, as he leans down to your ear.

_“I’ll show you fun.”_


End file.
